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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28920525">hold your hand to that goodnight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wondernoise/pseuds/wondernoise'>wondernoise</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Second Person, Superpowers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:40:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,509</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28920525</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wondernoise/pseuds/wondernoise</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"It’s different now, with Akechi: you can’t just live your life as you always have without crashing headfirst into his. You build routines to maneuver around each other comfortably, so you settle into the same space in a way that makes both of your lives better.</p>
<p>You suppose that’s the point, but it startles you how easy it feels sometimes to let something become routine. And it startles you again how little you mind it. It isn’t as horrifying as it’s always been to realize something has become a part of your life without you clearing the space for it.</p>
<p>Here is a new fact of your existence: Akechi glows in his sleep."</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Akechi and Akira, post-<i>such beautiful shadows</i>. Title from "Goodnight" by Wilbur Soot.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>84</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>hold your hand to that goodnight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/intimatopia/gifts">intimatopia</a>.</li>


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28756935">such beautiful shadows</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/intimatopia/pseuds/intimatopia">intimatopia</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was a birthday gift for Carys, not posted on time because their fic wasn't up on their birthday - Carys if you're reading this hello and ily!! </p>
<p>This fic will make NO SENSE if you haven't read <i>such beautiful shadows</i> so go check that out first! It's linked in the "Inspired by".</p>
<p>Title song doesn't relate to this fic so much, it just gave me vibes for the AU in general.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s been a long, long time since you’ve lived with another person. You shared a building with Sojiro’s coffee shop, sure, so you’d pass him on your way out in the mornings and if you came home early enough in the evening, and he probably knows more about your life at this point than any one person has a right to know and only most of which you offered to him willingly, but that’s different.</p>
<p>You still lived your own life. You came and went on your own terms and dealt with your own shit and fucked around with your ability and the cafe’s silverware when you couldn’t sleep, and that was your choice. If you started to feel like you were marching in place, you’d quit a job and pick up two new ones and rearrange your entire schedule, and it never affected anyone else.</p>
<p>It’s different now, with Akechi: you can’t just live your life as you always have without crashing headfirst into his. You build routines to maneuver around each other comfortably, so you settle into the same space in a way that makes both of your lives better.</p>
<p>You suppose that’s the point, but it startles you how <em>easy</em> it feels sometimes to let something become routine. And it startles you again how little you mind it. It isn’t as horrifying as it’s always been to realize something has become a part of your life without you clearing the space for it.</p>
<p>Here is a new fact of your existence: Akechi glows in his sleep.</p>
<p>Well, glows <em>brighter</em> might be more accurate. He’s more open to letting his ability unfurl around you than he used to be -- albeit only when the two of you are alone, and only hesitantly, like he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop whenever he does. You still count it privately as a victory when you turn a corner and stumble upon that faint sunrise glow. But God forbid you say that to him rather than pretending it’s not happening.</p>
<p>Baby steps, you suppose.</p>
<p>Anyway, the glow is far brighter at night. None of that self-control which you’d quickly learned to resent way before those long hours in his bathroom. Just the light, wavering rather like you imagine the polar aurora does, in rhythm with his breathing.</p>
<p>It also gets more intense when he has nightmares.</p>
<p>(You discovered this last fact rather by accident. You’d woken up to the light of the sun, thought you’d slept past your early shift at Leblanc, and rolled out of bed into the kitchen, whereupon you’d glanced at the stovetop clock and realized it was only two A.M. and the light that had woken you was from Akechi.</p>
<p>Akechi, who by that point had also gotten out of bed and was standing in the doorway, dimmer and just as visibly bewildered to see you in the kitchen as you were to be in the kitchen at two in the morning when you didn’t need to be up until five.</p>
<p>“Did I wake you up?” he’d finally asked.</p>
<p>“I was awake before you,” you’d responded, the first answer that came to mind of course some instinctive refusal to let him blame himself for anything ever. Well-deserved, you think. He makes enough of a hobby out of blaming himself for everything that you see no reason to make it <em>easier </em>for him.</p>
<p>Akechi blinked at you for a long, slow moment. “I could have…” A pause, and a vague hand motion. “Punched you in the face, or something. In my sleep.”</p>
<p>“You don’t move enough,” you dismissed, and then, since you were in the kitchen and all, you went ahead and made him a glass of water. He drank it, and then you both went back to bed without any further discussion.)</p>
<p>He didn’t tell you what he’d dreamt about. He never does. You hadn’t really consciously considered that he <em>gets</em> nightmares until he started flashbombing you in his sleep at odd hours of the morning. It’s not like he shows any other signs of having bad dreams. He curls into himself a bit tighter, sure, squeezes his eyes shut harder, maybe mumbles to himself if it’s <em>really</em> bad, but none of that is anything that would wake you up. </p>
<p>It lends the glow an air of convenience, you suppose. And there are worse things to wake up to than a midnight dawn lighting on your boyfriend’s nose and cheeks. A warning sign in pastel, a flag waving, <em>hey, here’s your chance to do something nice for Goro without him getting all hissy at the suggestion that he might need or deserve care.</em></p>
<p>You cherish it, honestly, as awful as that sounds to put to words. Obviously you don’t want your boyfriend having nightmares, and you’d do anything to give him a proper night’s rest, but you’re at least pleased that you can do something to help when it’s needed. Even if <em>something</em> usually involves rolling over half-asleep in bed and dragging him close until his back is pressed against your chest and his head is tucked under your chin, burying your face in his hair and whispering his name and <em>It’s okay</em> and <em>I’ve got you</em> intermittently until the light dims back out and his breathing settles.</p>
<p>It actually works a lot more often than you’d expected. And even when you can’t seem to calm Akechi down before he wakes up, it’s still nice to have the warning. When he pushes away from your hold, muttering louder -- still mostly incoherently -- and glowing brighter and brighter until the inevitable <em>pop</em> when he finally works himself awake and shuts down his light all at once.</p>
<p>You’re convinced it must hurt him to do that. You keep telling yourself that you’ll bring it up to him someday, but you know that it wouldn’t help anything. There’s nothing you can do to convince Akechi when he’s half-awake and <em>this</em> close to falling out of bed to get away from you that it’s perfectly safe to show his ability. And anyway, if you move too fast or make too much noise when he’s just woken up, he might <em>actually</em> fall out of the bed. </p>
<p>But there’s a routine to this, too. </p>
<p>You’ll wait in silence, pretending to be asleep while you wake for his breathing to shudder and slow. Then you’ll roll over, whisper, “Akechi?”</p>
<p>“I’m okay,” he’ll say, every time, like clockwork. “Go back to sleep.” Light will sparkle under his fingertips where they’re gripping the bed, dancing arcs across the bed like skipping stones on a lake. (You’ve only recently gotten him to stop it with the weird pajama gloves even when he’s having a bad night.)</p>
<p>That’s your cue to push yourself into a sitting position, slowly, telegraphing your movements (he’ll still be jumpy) and take his hands in yours. You’ll trace your thumbs over the backs of his hands, little pink sparkles following in your wake. </p>
<p>Both of you will watch them for a long while. Neither of you will speak. You’ll trace a little heart shape into his hand just to watch it light up, and he’ll give a little wet snort and smack your shoulder.</p>
<p>“Wanna talk about it?” you’ll ask.</p>
<p>“No,” Akechi will say, always sounding like he’s preparing for a fight.</p>
<p>“Okay,” you’ll say, and then, “I’m going to go make hot chocolate.” He’s always had a sweet tooth, as long as you’ve known him, and so even though he fusses over sugar that late at night, he will <em>always</em> come when you offer to make hot chocolate. </p>
<p>You’ll talk while you’re putting the mugs together, cobbling together some sort of story out of whatever your late night brain is willing to offer. Jokes you read in a book in elementary school and forgot for years on end, old stories, embarrassing memories. It’s never much and it’s coherent even less often, and he rarely contributes more than a hum or a halfhearted jab at your common sense, but that doesn’t matter. You both know he isn’t listening to you -- you’re just filling the silence to keep him from getting stuck in his head. </p>
<p>When the hot chocolate is done, you’ll drag him back into the bedroom with it. (He doesn’t usually want food in the bed, but something about the late hour and the circumstances will always make this a special exception. It feels a bit like a secret rebellion, even though you’re both in your twenties and nobody cares if you bring hot chocolate into your bed. It cheers you up anyway.)</p>
<p>You’ll lean your head against his shoulder, pressing your weight into his side. He’ll stay stiff for a long moment, gripping his hot chocolate mug a bit too tightly to be natural, before giving in and tilting his head to rest against yours. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, he’ll let his light unfurl then, painting the room in a faint gold.</p>
<p>Usually you drink your hot chocolate in darkness. The moon casts thin silver strips over the bed and dim arcs in Akechi’s eyes on those nights, but the shadows always feel longer. </p>
<p>You’ll be quiet, then. But you’ll also have to be careful: it’ll be hard not to fall asleep. Everything comes into focus when Akechi is nearby, the warmth from the mug and from his body against yours settling somewhere deeper inside you. And there’s the feeling you’ve been getting since you first met him, the breath-stealing stability of finally, <em>finally</em> finding your feet, landing on solid ground after spending the last god-knows-how-long teetering on the edge of a long fall. It tugs at edges you keep forgetting are frayed, poking at your exhaustion and luring you back into sleep.</p>
<p>Akechi won’t calm down quite that easily, of course, and you’ll refuse to fall asleep while he’s still up and caught in his own head. You’ll sip at your drink instead, use your free hand to take his. Your left hand in his right, reminding him, <em>I’m here. I have you. I’ll listen if you want to talk.</em></p>
<p>Maybe one day he’ll take you up on the offer. But even though he hasn’t yet, he takes your hand every time.</p>
<p>You’ll finish your hot chocolate around the same time; you don’t enjoy it quite as much as he does, but you also drink faster when it’s anything other than 2AM finals crunch coffee, so it balances out. He will, invariably, offer to take the mugs out to the kitchen when you’re both done. In return, you’ll snort at him and press a fond (sleepy, barely there) kiss to his cheek. “They can wait until the morning,” you’ll say. (If he tries to argue again, you give him a proper kiss to shut him up about it. He’s learned the futility of fighting you on this particular point.) The mugs will come to live on your nightstand until the morning, and you both settle back into bed.</p>
<p>You’ll pull him close to you again, and he’ll only resist for a moment before falling into place against your chest (because what if someone sees him cuddling his own boyfriend at night, what a terrifying thought -- someone here has to consider his reputation, and it’s never once been you). “How are you feeling?” you’ll ask.</p>
<p>“I’m alright now,” he’ll answer, every time. “Sorry to wake you up.”</p>
<p>That’s when you’ll remind him of the time you had a nightmare and put your bedside lamp through the wall. Or the time you shattered your water glass against the closet door and the outfit he’d been planning to wear the next day. Or the time you’d exploded...something in your phone. Even Futaba was never able to figure out exactly <em>what</em> it was you broke, just that nothing was working quite right. You’d had to get a new phone, and ability-related damage wasn’t covered by your warranty.</p>
<p>“A little extra light <em>really</em> isn’t that bad,” you’ll conclude.</p>
<p>“Still,” he’ll say, and you’ll be able to <em>hear</em> the way his brows knit together in the way they do when he’s displeased and can’t manage to articulate why. “You don’t need to get up with me. I can handle a bad dream, really.”</p>
<p>“You act like it’s such a burden to get up and make hot chocolate,” you’ll tease, nuzzling your face into his hair. “For me, it’s basically bonus cuddle time. And besides, even if I don’t <em>need</em> to know, I <em>want</em> to. You’d get mad at me if I had a nightmare and didn’t wake you up.” You’ve learned this from experience.</p>
<p>“That’s different,” he’ll say immediately, and then you’ll both lay there in silence as he tries to find a way to articulate the difference that you’ll accept. </p>
<p>He never gets that far, because as soon as he opens his mouth you’ll reach up to cover it with your hand. “Sleep well, Akechi,” you’ll whisper sweetly, that or some saccharine variation that never fails to rile him up.</p>
<p>If he’s in a good mood by then, he’ll lick your hand for your crimes. Usually he just elbows you in the stomach and scoots over to the other side of the bed while you wail (as loudly as you dare that late at night knowing you have neighbors on all sides) and cry mistreatment.</p>
<p>He’ll let this go on for a minute or so, because he always manages to convince himself that if he pretends you’re not being a nuisance for long enough you’ll do something other than get even more obnoxious. Eventually, though, he always gives in, and says, “I don’t know how you expect me to get any sleep with you making such a fuss.”</p>
<p>“You’ve <em>wounded</em> me,” you’ll insist. “I doubt I shall never recover.”</p>
<p>A sigh, always. He likes to keep his back to you for this stage so he can better pretend he’s not smiling, but you can always hear it in his voice. “And how do you propose I rectify this?”</p>
<p>“Come <em>back</em>,” you’ll whine. He’ll heave another sigh, somehow even more put-upon than the last one, and haul himself up so he can drape himself across you, head pressed to your heart. This is the ideal position for both of you, and you’ll wrap an arm around him to lock him there in place.</p>
<p>“Goodnight,” you’ll say again. “Love you.” He’ll squeeze your free hand, and you’ll trail the other up and down his back until his breath evens out again. You’ll always follow soon after.</p>
<p>(Neither of you <em>ever </em>consider the consequences to this: mainly that when you wake up two and a half hours later for your early morning shift at LeBlanc, he’s still on top of you, and the damage it does to your mental health to scoot out from under your sleeping boyfriend while he sighs and makes little sleepy grabs at your shirt is unparalleled.</p>
<p>It’s worth it, but still. Incredibly painful. </p>
<p>You always make sure to leave a to-go coffee in a thermos for him when you go.)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*casually copies Carys' additional tags*</p>
<p>i'm on twitter @w0ndernoise! come say hi!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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